


Hero

by RaceUlfson



Series: Hero [1]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: After Game, Happily Ever After is Hard, M/M, Mentions of Substance Abuse, au-ish, getting on with life, kinda graphic sex, not doing so well at getting on with life, what we used to call lemon in the old days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-13
Updated: 2014-04-13
Packaged: 2018-01-19 07:28:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1460887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaceUlfson/pseuds/RaceUlfson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been four years since the war and some people are handling it better than others.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ephemerality of Fame

**Author's Note:**

> So here it is, the original Hero, warts and all.

I never denied who I am.

People ask my name, I say, "Seifer Almasy", no hesitation and I don't mumble it either.

Turns out no one knows my name, really.

So.

I also don't deny that I was the Sorceress' Knight. Couple times right after, people would recognize me, call me names.

Beat me up.

I took it a time or two; I let them do it. Felt I owed them, felt I deserved it.

Then I didn't feel like taking it any more.

See, there's a natural order of things, a pecking order, a food chain. Nowhere in the equation was Seifer Almasy lets little pieces of shit gang up on him and beat him to snot. So I put an end to that.

Okay, a little compromise here. Reality check. The scar faded to almost invisible - I'm a good healer - hair grew out, hair cut changed. I don't wear the trench coat anymore. But if anyone asks, Yeah, I was the Sorceress' Knight, whatcha gonna do about it?

No one's asked in a couple of years, though.

Balamb Garden is still there. Well, here and there, because it travels. They're rebuilding Trabia and (Hyne help us) Galbadia is up and running with even a few Guardian Forces under glass for emergencies.

I live in Deling City. I like the crowds, the noise, the weather. And it gives me a certain kick to pass the Presidential Palace and look up at my old room.

Yeah, the guy standing next to you in line at the grocery store used to command the whole Galbadian Army back when we were half a tick from taking over the world. Remember, back 3, 4 years ago? Why did we not take over the world again?

Oh, right, there was this High School kid from Balamb, the one with all the belts. No chest hair, no experience, no idea what he was getting into and no hope of him ever, ever giving up.

Sorry, Squall...

Don't miss the Garden. Glad I'm not a SeeD. Only hung around because I thought there was nowhere else to go. Too much of a coward to admit I hated everything about the place, too much of a chicken wuss to run away and see if there was something out here I might like better.

Still have my gun blade, so I guess I didn't hate everything. Don't carry it around much anymore. Like the trench coat, it was part of a romantic phase I out grew.

Recognizable, too. Why borrow trouble?

But old habits die hard. You hunt for guardians, for draw points as you travel. Memorize where they are. Keep yourself stocked up.  
Slip off on weekends, days off, taking the gunblade into the wilds. Kill a few monsters for a little beer money, but mostly to keep the hand in, the edge on. And to draw off them, of course.

Sneak into Galbadia Garden in the dead hours, drain the draw points of Curages, Restores, Esunas, Shield spells. Whisper to the GF's, trapped away. Take 'em out for a spin if they're willing. The GFs eat your memories but Hells, I don't have many I need to keep.

I'm an EMT now. A paramedic. I love it. The physical requirements were a joke, the classes fascinating. All you gotta do is keep calm under pressure, not gross out easily, and stay professionally detached.

As if I ever gave a shit.

That's what the spells are for, although, really, I don't use them all that much. I mean, if a guy has smeared himself and his car all along the wall, a Phoenix Down isn't gonna help a lot. And if you respond quickly and properly and get the client to the hospital in one piece, then you don't really need the cures, either.

Every once in a while, when a kid might be left an orphan, or maybe it's the kid himself, I whisper a little Curaga when nobody's looking.

Help even up the score a little...

... Hey, I have Fuujin and Rajin again. Not the same ones, of course. The originals got out while there was still time, thank Hyne, and are happily ever aftering somewhere near a good fishing spot. I'll always have a soft spot for my original posse - after all, I lost my virginity to both of them... But they were made for each other although at first only ol' Seifer the Matchmaker could see it.

Okay, maybe the real reason I have a soft spot for those two is that they are one of my few proven successes. I have a picture of Alma in my wallet. Two years old and already a heartbreaker. I sent the entire contents of my savings account for them to set up an educational fund for my little goddaughter. I told Fuu, Law School, Beautician School, anything please Hyne except a Garden. I threatened to teach Alma to turn tricks first. Fortunately Fuu agreed with me. And fortunately for my health, Raj understands my sense of humor, y'know.

My new posse... Fuu is 5'10"easy and about 140 pounds of solid muscle. She moves like a panther. Quiet, kinda like Squall - when she's not talking shop she doesn't talk at all, except the occasional witty/sarcastic remark that can sting enough to leave the scent of ozone behind.

I think Fuu knows who I am, or at least suspects. She asked about the scar once. Well, her exact words were, "Cut yourself shaving?"

"Had a little trouble plucking my eyebrows," I said.

"Try hot wax."

I caught her looking at me after that, with the 'I know you' look. I waited for her to say or do something about it, but it's been over a year so I guess she isn't gonna.

I told you, once your nine days and 15 minutes are over, no one cares.

And they say we have memory problems...

Rajin is a good kid, from somewhere in the sticks. Four inches taller than I am and more if he'd stand up straight, dammit. He's as thin as a greyhound, all legs and arms and big sad eyes and when he talks, which is always, his deep bass voice rumbles almost incomprehensibly. He's a Professional Grade worrier and can drive you completely insane if you listen to him, which I don't.

We got a call about a messy car wreck and moved out. Raj drives, not well but very fast. Fu is usually shotgun. I'm the one with the extra initials and the license, so I sit in back and check stock.

When we got there it didn't take a rocket scientist to see that whoever was in the black sports car was pretty much a goner. Not a lot of room left in that baby for healthy body parts.

Do gooders and ghouls hovered. Someone had spread flares, the pinkish light giving the wreck a festive look. Raj and Fuu grabbed the kit and ran to the brown truck, where the Everhelpfulls had at least enough wit to leave the victim alone until we got there.

Me, I checked the sports car, just in case the driver was a midget and somehow survived.

And fuck me if it wasn't Squall Leonhart, deader than hell.

I threw my Phoenix Down without even realizing it.

Squall’s chest heaved and his eyelids fluttered.

Alive. Okay then. Time to inspect the damage.

Squall's legs were pinned under the dash and were pretty much a mess. Although he was wearing his seat belt - can you imagine Squall not taking an opportunity to wear a belt? He’d taken a good hit on the side of the head, possible from something bouncing around in the car with him. Squall was covered with glass and not all of it was safety glass from the windshield. I could smell beer and maybe brandy.

Squall, Squall, you know better!

Somehow I got him out, casting surreptitious Curagas to keep him alive.

Fuu appeared at my side. "The Other One's stable." She sniffed as she helped me secure Squall. "He's going to jail."

Annoyed, I said, "You don't know that."

"His blood alcohol will be high... c'mon, I can smell the booze from here. He was doing over 100 - and the brown truck has local tags, he's from what is that? Esthar?" All the time Fuu was talking, she was handing me the correct vials, taking notes on the pad. "As soon as he's out of the hospital, he'll be some happy guy's new roomie at Dollet."

I cringed a little at that. It's not like I was really protecting Squall... just avoiding scandal. Payback.

Figuring Fuu knew anyway, I cast Esuana on Squall and let her take him away. To be on the safe side, I pumped a few Curagas into the old duff from the brown truck, too.

And then, as we pulled away, Squall's car inexplicably burst into flames, with a little help from our old friend Firaga.

No, I don't only stock healing spells. And don't look at me like that. What's the point, now?

So all the evidence was destroyed. Two days later, nothing in the news. I figured I hushed it up - or Laguna Loire and the Gardens did. Either way, my Good Deed of the Year was out of the way and lookee, I've got the rest of Autumn and all of Winter to coast.

I was refilling the packs and turning in reports. It had been a fun filled weekend for those of us in the rescue biz. Rajin was checking on patient status - he likes to follow up on each of "our" patients. I think he writes those near miss disaster stories for Dental Office magazines - you know the ones with the little joke on each page and at least one Heart Warming Sob Story per issue? - If Raj doesn't, he should, because Fuu and I hear each patient's story despite all efforts to stop him.

Rajin rattled them all off, trivia, successes, a few failures to wince over. Fuu and I worked and ignored him until he got down to, "They're sending John Doe over to Charity."

"John Doe doesn't narrow it down much, Raj," I said, not looking up. If he's going to talk all the time, he should at least make sense.

"Exploding sports car? Head on with a brown truck? Mr. Gimmel, by the way, is doing just fine and went home yesterday."

"Why would they send him to Charity?"

"Because," Raj said, shocked I would ask a question he knew the answer to, "he's poor and hurt and they don't know who he is."

"They don't know who he is," I repeated, and it's a sad thing to be repeating after Rajin.

"I guess he doesn't remember anything."

"Can't trace the car, it totally burned up in the explosion," Fuu said blandly.

Was that a dig? Didn't matter, I was on to other things.

Like, 'they don't know who he is.'

Pardon me, but that just pissed me off.

Squall saved the planet, for Hyne's sake. You'd think someone would recognize him! He saved you, and that fat bastard standing next to you, and all the people in Galbadia and the whole world from Galbadia, and me, and from something you can't even begin to understand enough to be afraid of.

Squall saved you all when he was 17 fucking years old and 4 years later no one even knows who the Hells he is?!

No one misses him?

I decided what I was going to do. I scooped up the replenished packs. "Let's get back to the party."

"Too bad about him ending up at Charity," Rajin said, speaking of Squall as he followed me. "He had a real nice car, though, so I bet somebody's looking for him."

"If for no other reason than to get the next car payment," Fujin put in, trailing after us.

On my way to the back of the ambulance, I absently brushed my hand over the shiny white hood. Just the faintest breath of Bolt curled out. I know what I can do to your laptop. The diagnostic computer in the engine hated me.

We got in, we got settled, but before we could get going, Raj had to dick around under the hood.

"Service engine soon light is on again. Can't see anything wrong, though."

"I don't want to be in the back with a full Code Red and have this bastard drop its transmission in the middle of the road."

Rajin started her right up. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it."

I didn't have to. Raj worried about it, with a little help from Fuu and her natural pessimism. By the end of the shift, Raj was whining to the boss and old Number 3 was taken off active duty.

Since I'm such a swell guy, and I live right around the corner from the Mechanic's, I offered to drop Number 3 off on my way home. Save me a bus ride, I told the boss with a shrug.

Ain't I the Boy Scout?

On the way, Number 3 and I made a little side trip back to Galbadia General. There I slouched over the counter looking bored and tired until I could nab a nurse who is also tired and at the end of her shift and anxious to go home.

"Supposed to cart John Doe to Charity?" I asked her.

"Paperwork?"

"They said you had it."

She wasn't a trauma nurse, she didn't know me, but I had the badge, the uniform, the attitude. She grumbled around, couldn't find it, and wrote up a halfassed transfer slip and sent me off to fetch John Doe, Room 611.

Squall was pretty out of it, but I hit him with a Sleep, just in case. Wheeled him out, threw the papers in the dumpster, took him home.  
I laid him on my bed and left to drop off the ambulance.

He was awake when I got back.

"Still resistant to status effects, I see," I said cheerfully.

Squall's color was up, chest heaving, eyes flashing. "I have no idea what you are talking about." He sounded out of breath and angry.

Squall actually looked pretty sweet, all vulnerable and exposed in his little hospital gown. He tried to sit up, but he couldn't.  
"Get me out of this bed," he said.

Then it hit me. I have an old Captain's style waterbed. High off the ground, high wood sides. Kinda mushy because I'm a big guy and I need a new mattress. And here's Squall, a rigid cast on each leg.

There is no way he can get out of that bed without help.

So there I was, Seifer Almasy, evil Sorceress' Knight with my newly kidnapped major rival mostly naked and helpless on my bed.

It was all I could do not to rub my hands together and chortle.


	2. Persistence of Fame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some have greatness thrust upon them.

Quistis Trepe punched the button on the private line. "Garden Administrator."

A tinny voice said, "Please hold for the President of Esther."

Quistis sank back in the padded executive chair, tapping her pen. But she had to smile when she heard Laguna Loire's breathless voice.

"Squall? Lissen Kiddo -"

"Squall's not here, Mr. President."

"Oh... Quisty?" Reassured by the affirmative noise she made that he'd correctly identified to whom he was speaking, Laguna said, "Call me Laguna. Is he really not there or just 'I'm not talking to that jerk' not there?" As always, he spoke in a rapid rush as if afraid he'd run out of air before he got his point across.

Quistis took a moment to sort that out and said, "Squall is really not at Balamb at all, Mr. President."

"Don't call me that!"

"Yes, Sir." Quistis fought back the smile that was sneaking into her voice and tried to remain professional sounding. "I thought he was with you."

Laguna sighed. "He was. Then we had another one of our famous 'Leave My Life Alone' fights, and I haven't seen him since." Another sigh, followed by a self-depreciating chuckle. "It's been a couple of days, and, well, I cooled off... So I thought I'd call and you know, mend fences. Apologize."

"Squall hasn't shown up here. He does have several days of his vacation left."

"I know, but if Squall didn't go back to Garden, where did he go?"

 

Quistis invited herself to join Zell at lunch. "You heard from Squall?" she asked casually, as she slipped in beside him.

Zell glanced up from the martial arts video he was watching on his laptop. "This guy's form stinks." He took another bite of hot dog. "Why would Squall call me?"

"You're his best friend, right?"

"Eeee.... yeah, mainly from lack of competition, but yeah." Zell chewed thoughtfully. "You know what he's been like, since... since we came back." His attention drifted back to the screen. "Since the Rinoa fiasco, anyway."

Quistis toyed with her breadstick. "I thought Rinoa had a chance, for a while there. I should call her... sometime."

"Okay." Zell finished his lunch and the video, waiting for Quistis to stop dropping hints and get to the point. When he noticed she was folding and refolding her napkin into little knife-edge creases, he spoke up. "I thought the Iceman was spending this vacation with his dad?"

"They had a big fight and Squall took off."

"Oo, surprise, surprise."

Quistis dismissed his sarcasm with a wave. "They have a lot of issues to work out."

Zell shut off the player, shaking his head. "They have no issues to work out, and that's the whole problem. Squall got along fine for 17 years with no father and even after 4 years of trying he still can't figure out what to do with one. Squall can't blow Laguna off, because he feels guilty 'cuz he's the only one of us who has a father. So he goes there and tries to do his duty and make nice, realizes he has no idea what he's doing, and bails."

"Do you know where he is?"

"I know Squall well enough to know that no one knowing where he is would be his idea of a great vacation."

"I have such a bad feeling about this."

Zell stood, gathering up laptop and assorted books and papers. "I'm late. Lissen, I bet you even now Squall is sitting somewhere dull, eating a vanilla ice cream cone, avidly waiting for the belt shop to open."

"Zell!" Quistis had to laugh.

Mission accomplished, Zell paused to say seriously, "You know Squall can take care of himself. He'll be back, exactly on time, and he'll probably never tell you where he was. That's just the way he is."

And trust me, Zell added mentally as he bounced off to his class, you don't wanna know the places Squally hangs out when he's cutting loose.

 

 

When he pulled me back, I was furious.

I had finally succeeded in killing myself, and the Phoenix grabbed me and brought me back to a world of hurt. Cure after Cure whispered over me and the old sensation of flesh mending, organs healing, small bones knitting worked through my awareness.  
I thought we must be in battle, they must need me up. It must be bad, I thought, and I tried to remember what we were fighting... but I couldn't.

I reached for Shiva, but she was unjunctioned. I was alone.

Not completely alone, because the bastard who saved my life cast Esuana, instantly removing all traces of alcohol and other lovely pain numbing drugs from my system. I was alone, sober, and in great pain.

I wasn't afraid. When you want to die, there's not much you're afraid of.

Besides, I'd figured out who he was.

I woke up in the Infirmary. Or maybe the Hospital. I tried to get a status report at first. I thought it was still during the Ultimecia Thing, that we were in combat. I couldn't figure out why I wasn't up. Curagas aren't that great on broken bones, but you can move. I've done it before. You ignore the pain now, and push ahead to the goal. That's all you can do, keep focused on the goal.

Soon, they tell you, soon, the goal will be accomplished and this will be over.

They lie a lot.

The Doctor had a genial, reassuring bedside manner. To me that meant he either was keeping something from me, or he didn't have a clue. The result being, his status reports sucked.

I found out I was in Galbadia and that ended all my communications with Dr. Howarewedoing. I was still mixed up about what time it was - which when so to speak - and I didn't want to take any chances that would give away military secrets or get Laguna Loire institutionalized.

They were stingy with the painkillers - didn't want me to get addicted, the Nurse explained. I almost laughed. If she and the Doctor had any idea how much I already had to take just to get through a 10 hour working day, she would have run me an IV straight to the Pharmacy.

Strike that.

It's irrelevant.

As if I don't get enough of that from Zell. Little hints about starting early. Him always grabbing my coffee cup and offering to get me a refill so he can sniff the mug and see if I've slipped anything extra in there.

And the friendly talk from my father about how my drinking hobby has passed into a habit and is well on its way to a problem.

I have discipline. I never drink on duty. I don't drink socially. I only drink when I'm alone.

I hate being alone.

They took the Guardian Forces away from us. There was much shocked public outcry about the effects GF's had on us. Personal opinion, the world couldn't handle teenagers who could summon gods. The GF's are all supposed to be safely kept under lock and key at the various Gardens.

But I kept Shiva.

The whole memory loss thing was blown way out of proportion, anyway. How much of your childhood do you remember? I remember when mine ended well enough. I can hardly wait to forget that.

With Shiva, soon I'll have passed all of that and it will be gone, forgotten, painlessly.

Keep focused on the goal.

To keep my mind off the indignities of Hospital life, I searched for Shiva. Found her, finally, called her back and rejunctioned. She was angry with me, because I had cast her out just before I ...

The Guardians take damage when we do, you know. I didn't want to ...

Whatever.

I had been dozing but I woke up instantly when the Sleep spell hit me. I pretended to be asleep as I was carried off, mainly to avoid having to answer the questions I knew would be coming. With Shiva's help I had pieced together a better idea of what was going on. I assumed I was going back to a Garden.

I knew it wasn't a Garden or a Hospital when I was placed on a waterbed.

I waited a few after the door closed and then decided Shiva and I needed to get out of there.

Only, I couldn't.

I couldn't get purchase. I couldn't traction. I couldn't figure out how to get my cast entrapped legs over the high wooden sides. Every time I rolled close enough to the edge, I sank too low into the bed.

It felt like I was in a crib. Or a coffin. I had gotten myself wedged in a ridiculous position and I thrashed uselessly until I was exhausted.

Shiva shifted in my mind, reminding me that she was there. I calmed myself down enough to partially sit up. I leaned back on both my arms, which changed the pain from ignorable to distracting. I looked up.

There he was, standing in the doorway, big and tawny and arrogant as any lion.

Laughing at me.

I decided, at first, to play dumb. "Who are you? Where am I?"

I could see on his face he was thinking about lying to me. That would have been surreal, he lying to me while I lied to him and both of us pretending to believe it.

Then his eyes narrowed. "Don't dick with me, Squall. I know you have Shiva. I can take her out and get the truth from her."

I didn't want to lose Shiva. "Fuck you, Seifer," I said. "She won't talk to you; she doesn't like you."

He laughed again, an easy sound. I never laugh out loud, I can't. Doesn't sound right, doesn't feel right. "It would be a sin to break you two up now." Seifer pushed away from where he'd been lounging against the doorjamb and padded over to me.

I shrank back into the bed. I'm not afraid of Seifer, never was, but there's a certain awful anticipation that comes when you suddenly notice the predator has noticed you. It came to me then exactly how helpless and dependent on him I was. I wasn't going to eat unless he brought me food and I wasn't going to sleep unless he brought me painkillers.

The thought was ... erotic.

Seifer spoiled the mood by fluffing the pillows and rearranging me on the bed as if I were a child. He started doing hospital type things to me with a surprisingly competent air. I found myself relaxing somewhat. I was so used to Seifer doing humiliating things to me that it was almost reassuring. And the warmth from the waterbed was nice.

I slept a lot, ate what Seifer gave me, improved slowly. I wondered why he didn't cast Curaga on me... but if I were healed, I wouldn't be his captive anymore.

I could have cast Cure on myself. Did he wonder why I didn't? Or did he figure, as I did, that even healed it was the heavy casts that kept me in the bed, helpless?

Eventually I was feeling well enough to be bored. I watched Seifer for a while. He sat at his desk, reading, making notes, checking things on the computer. Ordinarily I would have had no problem with Seifer ignoring me. I would have done whatever I had to do and ignored him right back.

But I didn't have anything to do. I wanted a drink. Instead I actually initiated a conversation.

"What are you doing?"

The Almasy smirk. "Reading about human parasites."

Keeping my voice neutral, I asked, "Any particular reason?" I closed my eyes and waited for the punch line.

"Know thy enemy. Makes you itchy after a while, though. It's for my Microbiology class."

"You're studying microbiology?" I don't know why I was shocked. I was always the better student but if something caught Seifer's attention, there was no stopping him.

"Trying to get into Med School,” he said, sounding shy.

I felt even more adrift, even more of a loser. It occurred to me that Seifer had always been the one with the dreams, the plans. He had always set the goals. He was still moving forward. I was trying to get off the path.

More snidely than I meant to, I said, "Is that why you are practicing without a license?"

He came and lightly ran his hands over me. "Just playing doctor."

Now that I had his attention, I didn't want it. I closed my eyes and turned my face away.

Seifer stroked my hair. "You cut it." It was an accusation.

"It's been 4 years. I needed a more professional look." I'd been hoping for a more adult, more masculine look, too, but having seen my father I knew that was hopeless.

"Squall."

I opened my eyes. Something in his voice warned me. I thought it had come time for the inevitable interrogation. I sighed.

"I have to go back to work tomorrow."

Fear smothered me. He was going to leave me. "No," I whispered.

I don't think he heard me, because he kept talking. "I was putting off using the Curagas because you lost so much blood..."

"No," I said, shaking my head. I was going to be alone again.

"And the spells don't really knit your bones properly, they just sort of hold you together."

Shiva stirred. I held my breath, trying to stay focused on the goal. The goal was to stay calm. I kept thinking, he's leaving me again. He's leaving me all alone and helpless and I can't do anything about it.

The true goal was not to be alone anymore.

"What you need to do is disjunction Shiva so-"

"No!" I hauled myself up into a mostly sitting position, back against the headboard. "No, no!"

"Squall..." Seifer reached for me and I slapped his hand away.

"You're not taking her," I hissed. "You are not leaving me all alone!"

Reasonably, he said, "Squall, Shiva blocks magic effects. That's why-"

"No!!" I reached for the bedside table and threw the first thing my hand closed on at Seifer. The water carafe hit him in the chest. I followed that with everything else I could find.

He stood, unmoving, blinking slowly at me. The part of my mind that was still rational knew Seifer was fighting for control of his temper. I took advantage of the situation to try to get away from him before he took Shiva, before he left me again. I went wild and somehow I managed to partially fall out of the bed.

When he caught me I hit him as hard as I could.

Seifer threw me back onto the bed and rolled in with me. I was still trying to hit him. He crushed me to him, pinning my hands, holding me still.

He said, "What have they done to you?"

I was crying. I guess I was hysterical. The physical stress, the drugs... or lack of.

Whatever.

I told him, "I did what they wanted. I was a good boy! I made it to the goal. There was no happy ending. You didn't come back. I'm still alone!"

"You're not alone. I'm here."

"Yes, I am. You're going to leave me, too. Don't take Shiva... I can't stand being alone!"

Seifer rolled us both over and arranged me so I was lying more comfortably on top of him. He cuddled me close and rubbed my back. It felt... safe.

Seifer had no illusions about me. I didn't have to live up to being The Great Hero around him. He'd kicked my ass too many times to lose respect for me now.

I told him everything.

I told him how scared I'd been through the whole Ultimecia Thing. How it left darkness inside me I couldn't get away from.

How the weight of their respect was crushing me. I was becoming deformed, shaped to others' expectations. The wildness I sought when I escaped from them, the fuck clubs, the drinking.

I told Seifer about how I failed everyone. I couldn't make Rinoa, my father, myself happy.

I told him about the suicide attempts.

Seifer said nothing, just listened and rubbed circles on my back. Sometimes his arms would tighten briefly around me and his hands would stop their soothing. Then he would take a deep juttering breath and start again. His hands were so warm on my skin. Without meaning to, I was slowly relaxing.

I told him how we'd been forced to turn the GF's in after the war because they were dangerous to us and we were dangerous with them. I became so depressed Zell stole Shiva back and gave her to me.

"Zell is a good friend," Seifer said.

"Zell would back me if I suggested putting small children on the breakfast menu. He's part of the problem. Zell... he was there, too, but somehow I ended up The Great Hero. He worships me. I let him down all the time."

"You think he disapproves of your lifestyle?"

"Hyne, yes. You should have seen his face when he fetched me out of that club in Esther. It's not the homosexuality; it's the drinking and blind casual fucking. And all the rest. Zell says it's self-destructive." I smiled a little. "He knows he can't stop me, so he does damage control."

Seifer made a noncommittal noise. I wiped my eyes. At least my nose wasn't running. I rested my head on Seifer's chest and listened to his heartbeat for a while.

"Please don't take Shiva."

Seifer rolled me back to the helpless position. "Just disjunction while I cast. You can have her right back."

Obediently I set Shiva aside, ignoring the rush of loss that washed over me. Seifer put his hands on my legs and cast curaga after curaga. I lay there blinking back tears. I was sure Seifer would send me back to the Garden now that I no longer needed him.  
He ran his hands over me again. I could feel the magic seeking and prying. Gently, Seifer removed the last of the Hospital Things and the tape. He whispered one more cure and all the pain was gone.

I brought Shiva back and welcomed her in a relieved rush. "What about the casts?"

Seifer rubbed my legs just above the casts. He smirked at me. "If I take them off you won't be helpless anymore."

The shivery targeted feeling came back. "I thought that was the idea."

"Maybe." Seifer moved his hand to between my legs.

I was instantly hard. "Seifer!" I protested, but I didn't push him away.

He flashed me the patented Almasy smirk. Seifer reached up under me, grabbing me by the hips, and hauled me a short ways towards the foot of the bed. The mushiness of the bed and the weight of the casts pushed up a bubble behind my lower back. Now that the pain was gone I used the bubble to help me lean up on my elbows to look at Seifer.

I'm not into foreplay. When I want to fuck, I want to fuck now. I don't need to be primed or loosened up. If it hurts, I'll deal with it. But what he was doing was incredible. I thought, he can do that forever.

My body suddenly decided no, it wanted more right now.

"Seifer..." I shivered and squirmed under his hands. "Seifer..." I tried to buck my hips up to him to give him the hint. That's when I realized that with these casts on, there was no way. I couldn't bend my knees. I couldn't get my legs spread wide enough, my ass up enough. "Seifer," I said, my voice getting rough, "It's not going to work!"

He paused. "Seducing you? I dunno, seems to be working fine."

"No, fucking."

"I'm not going to fuck you."  
"I sure as Hyne can't do you like this!"

Seifer laughed and kissed my belly. "Do you seriously think you are ever gonna be in enough control here to fuck me?" He licked my navel before going back to what he'd been doing.

I tried to think of some way to make him give me more, but Seifer was right, he was the one in control. I lay back, arms stretched over my head. The bed arched me up. My body was bowed up, offered to him.

Seifer took my submission and gently kissed what was within reach - my nipples, my chest, my belly, hips... everything but what I wanted.

"Seifer," I growled.

He brushed my face. I captured one of his fingers and bit it, showing my frustration at too much gentleness.

All the pleasures stopped abruptly.

"Seeeeeiiiiifer?"

"No biting."

I writhed and sulked but was finally forced to apologize. "Sorry."

He put his hand back over my face. This time I sucked his fingers while he used his other hand to heat me back up to where I'd been before. Seifer reclaimed his fingers and slid one up inside me. He found the sweet spot right away, making me thrash.

Seifer held me down and rocked my hips on the waterbed, stroking my spot until I was ready to start screaming. I wanted to grab his golden hair and force him to do what I needed, but I was afraid of spoiling the perfect position he'd gotten me into.

Finally, Seifer lowered his mouth to my cock. I would have come instantly but he wouldn't let me. Instead, the pleasure built until I was almost mad with it. I think I was screaming his name. I know I was begging. Then...

Sweet Hyne.

Seifer kissed me and pet me and held me until I could move and think again. That would have been a good point for time compression. If you have to spend a thousand years doing something, that had my vote.

Too soon Seifer broke away from me. I stayed limp on the bed, waiting for my usual post-coital depression.

Seifer came back to the bed with a small rotary cutter, two pairs of safety glasses, and disposable respirators.

"Kinky," I said, startling a laugh out of him.

"Hold still, okay? There are much better ways to do this, but I don't have access to them."

It was such a relief to be able to bend my knees, to scratch, to get out of the bed. Which I did and promptly collapsed.

Seifer came back from taking out the mess and scooped me up. "No, no, and no. You're gonna need some physical therapy. At least stretch and warm up a little, you know that! Minimal walking, minimal standing. You're not really healed, how many times do I have to tell you that?"

I looked up into his sea colored eyes. "How do you know I didn't just want you to hold me some more?"

I spent the night surrounded by Seifer.

I tried to convince him that I could take more, that I could give as well as receive. Seifer had other ideas. He pulled me to him, wrapped his arms around me, fell asleep. I followed soon after. For the first time in a long while I slept without drugs and without nightmares.

I spent the day surrounded by Seifer.

I snuggled on his couch in the blankets he'd been using while I had his bed. I wore an old pair of his sweats that had shrunk almost enough to fit me. I had washed with Seifer's soap and shampoo. His scent and things gave me a feeling of security as I dozed. It helped keep the nightmares and depression away.

It also made me horny.

I was tempted to call Seifer. I stopped myself when I remembered Rinoa's irritating clingy phone calls.

I was not tempted to call the Garden. I was still on vacation.

Seifer had warned me that he would not call. He said he didn't want to wake me up. He was still babying me, and he had made me promise to stay in the nest on the couch and sleep as much as I could.

I agreed, thinking that sleeping all day boded well for the night.

Seifer's shift ended at 1830. I decided to wait for Seifer in the foyer and see if I could get him to fuck me right there. By 1845 I was ready to start rubbing myself on the furniture. By 1910 my legs couldn't take standing anymore. I had to limp back to the couch.

1930 I was telling myself logical reasons why it would take an hour to get home.

1940 I decided that waiting would be more tolerable if I had something to drink. I searched Seifer's kitchen but all I found was some import beer in the back of the fridge.

I was on my third when Seifer finally arrived, his arms full of groceries.

I was angry he had such a normal reason to be late.

I was relieved that he hadn't really abandoned me.

I was frustrated sexually after thinking about him all day.

I was exhausted from standing too long.

I was embarrassed that he caught me sneaking his beer.

All those thoughts and emotions swirled around inside my head. The kitchen swirled around my eyes. Seifer dropped the grocery bags and caught me before I hit the floor.

Instead of my legs around Seifer, it was his arms around me.

Good enough.

Seifer told me I was stressed out. He said that I had over done it like he had told me not to. He tucked me back in bed.

I don't remember falling asleep but I woke up to hot, blood rare steak. It was perfect. Seifer grinned at me and popped a piece in my mouth before I was fully coherent.

I hitched myself up on the pillows and let him feed me. Succulent slivers of porterhouse, molten forkfuls of buttery potato, crunchy bites of salad and sips of a surprisingly good merlot. I made no effort to take the plate or utensils from Seifer and he didn't offer.  
His fingers brushed my face a few times. I touched his arm, wrapped my hand over his to steady the glass when he gave the wine. He leaned over licked the inside of my wrist so quickly I wasn't entirely sure it had happened.

Seifer abandoned the fork and fed me bits of salad with his fingers. I licked the dressing off his fingers and began to suckle them, not intending to let him go. He grinned wickedly and put a piece of steak in my mouth with his lips. I swallowed quickly, eager to get a better taste of him.

He pulled away, disappointing me. Seifer dropped the now largely empty tray on the floor by the bed. He finished off the wine and turned back to give me another kiss. When his tongue encouraged me to part my lips, Seifer let some of the dry plumy wine he'd been holding in his mouth flow into mine.

While I savored the merlot and the kiss, Seifer moved back to my wrist, suckling my pulse, and he followed it up the inside of my arm, then over to my throat, gentle, nibbling kisses. He gathered me to him, once again kissing my lips.

I used to hate it when Seifer made me feel small. Now I was glad I fit into his arms, protected by his body over mine. Safe. Safe and wanted.

The kisses changed from gentle to frantic. Heat rolled off Seifer as he hardened under my hand. I responded to his need, trying not to think.

If this was a good idea or not. If it was going to last this time or be one more failure for me.

Seifer tore me out of those baggy sweats, throwing the shirt across the room. I shivered when the cold air hit me, but Seifer was all over me, kissing, touching, stroking like he couldn't get enough.

I couldn't get enough.

I wrapped myself around him, burrowing my hands under his shirt, down his pants. I wanted skin. Seifer was wearing entirely too many clothes. He must have agreed with me because he pulled away with a growl and kicked off his boots. I got his shirt off him, a little worse for wear, while Seifer removed his pants. Then he was back in my arms, radiating heat and lust.

I pressed myself against him, pulling him back on top of me, hooking my legs around his.

"Seifer", I said, ready to beg if necessary.

I arched my back and rubbed myself against his hardness.

He rumbled a chuckle against my hair. "I was gonna try to warm you up a little first."

Seifer fumbled around on the side table, alternating kisses with curses, until he found the vial he was seeking. He got the lid off, using his teeth, before I took pity on him and took it away from him.

I poured the sweet scented gel liberally into my hands and rubbed them together to warm it up. I reached down for Seifer, and starting with his scrotum, lovingly worked my way up his thick shaft.

Seifer took some of the warmed gel off my hands and did the same to me, in the reverse. He teased his way past my sensitive glans and stroked down my cock. He cupped my balls, fondling them, and then slid to my opening. I bucked my hips up to him, trying not come with only his finger in me this time.

"You ready?"

"What do you think?" I growled. I almost bit him, but I remembered the night before. If Seifer had quit then, I would have died. Or killed him. Or both. I thrust up at him, demanding attention that he finally gave.

Seifer kissed the insides of my thighs, my balls, my cock, and then he lifted my ass up in his hands and gently pulled me onto him. Once he was sure that I could take him and he wasn't hurting me, he moved his hands up to support my back, pulling me to him. He kissed me, sliding his tongue in my mouth in time with his thrusts. Too soon he hit my sweet spot and I was galvanized, not breathing, clutching Seifer so hard I know I left marks.

Time stopped.

When it started again I crashed over the edge and fell for a thousand years.

Incredible.

Seifer held me down and growling deep in his throat, came inside of me.

It was just the way I like it, fast and a little rough. Afterwards Seifer held me and kissed me not like he was starving but as if he wanted each kiss to last forever.

I lay there in his arms, listening to his breathing and his heartbeat, surrounded and protected by his warmth, and I was terrified.

Shiva had reminded me of something she was supposed to help me forget.

I loved him.


	3. Inevitablility of Fame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes it's good to be the king. Or President. Whatever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Years too late it occurs to me that it's a good thing there is no place called "Stockholm" on Hyne's World or this would not have worked out so pat. Oh, well.

Zell shifted from foot to foot outside of Squall's door. He muttered under his breath, "C'mon, C'mon." With a sigh, he knocked again, struggling with two large coffees and a sack of doughnut holes. "Open up, Capt'n, I gotcher breakfast here!"

Still no answer.

Zell tucked the sack in his armpit, only crushing a few pastries. He fumbled for the keycard that overrode Squall's lock. He hesitated a moment, weighing possible icy outrage against the possibility something was wrong. The heat from the paper coffee cups burned his fingers and made Zell's decision for him. "Maybe he's in the shower."

Squall was neither in the shower nor anywhere in his quarters, nor was there any sign that he had visited recently. Zell set the coffee down on Squall's faintly dusty desk, disturbing the screen saver. The message center was activated, indicating that Squall's cell phone was turned off. Zell noticed that there were 109 unretrieved messages dating from the 23rd of last month.

Zell rescued a doughnut hole from the bag and activated the message center. There was a way to bypass the recorded greeting but he never could remember how to do it.

"This is Squall Leonhart, Tuesday the 23rd about 3 am-"

The digitized voice sounded slightly off, but Zell could pick up the slur in the words. He crammed another doughnut hole, closing his eyes as he chewed, trying to analyze Squall's voice to determine exactly how drunk his friend and commander had been when the message was left. After four years, Zell could almost tell to the milligram. This sounded like Squall was well over the legal limit.

Zell stopped chewing and concentrated on the background noise. He barely heard the instructions of who to call at what numbers for Official Garden business. Was Squall in the car? Bad, very bad.

" - help you with whatever you need. I suggest you call her because... I don't think I'll be available."

Zell sat up, mouth hanging open, skin goosepimpling.

Just before the tone, whispered, was "Sorry, Zell."

Zell spat the sodden lump of dough into the wastebasket, too upset to even swallow. He paged the Admin office, knowing Quistis would be there, trying to get everything perfect for Squall's return.

"How was your vacation?" she answered.

The non sequitur startled Zell for a moment. Of course, it would show the call came from Squall's room. He responded with a non sequitur of his own, "Have you listened to Squall's voice mail greeting?"

"Zell?! What..." Quistis took a deep breath. "No, I always use pound star to bypass it - everyone does. ...Should I?"

"No. Call Laguna. I'll start with the Police."

 

Zell sat with his chair pushed back as far from the desk as it could be and still allow him to rest his forearms on the polished surface. He rolled a coffee mug back in forth in his hands, resisting the urge to throw it.

Quistis was straining her diplomatic skills, keeping her voice polite while her knuckles went white. She dodged another question. "But you're sure Commander Leonhart did not get on the train?" At the muffled affirmative, she said brightly, "Thanks so much!" and disconnected. She shook her head at Zell.

"I heard." Zell ran his hands through his hair, inadvertently styling it much as it had been in his younger days. "I wish..."

They turned as one when the vidphone from Galbadia Garden chirped. Selphie appeared, standing sideways to show off her expanding silhouette. She smiled impishly at their delighted greetings.

"Only 18 more days. Then I'm gonna make Irvine carry him for 9 months."

"Is that fair? He'll be a lot heavier." Zell felt the men should stick together.

"Irvy is a lot bigger than me, so of course it's fair." Selphie rested her hands on her rounded tummy and bit her lip. "I have news."

"Spill it, 'Elf,” Quistis said. Zell propped his head up with one hand and closed his eyes.

"Okay. There are no Leonharts under any spelling in any jail, hotel or hospital in Galbadia."

"I guess that's good news..." Quistis didn't sound convinced.

Selphie held up her hand. "But, Squall has a rare blood type. A John Doe with AB blood type was brought into Galbadia General with multiple fractures and, get this, amnesia, on the 23rd."

"Squall," Zell said. It wasn't a question.

"Description matches." Selphie nodded. "He was supposed to have been transferred to Charity Hospital on the 28th. He was never admitted."

Quistis' hand fluttered to her throat. "Then, where is he?"

"No one knows. I did find out the name of the ambulance driver who checked him out of Galbadia General." Selphie took a deep breath. "Guys, it's Seifer Almasy."

 

Zell sighed and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. What should have been a Garden Only investigation had suddenly become an international incident. He really couldn't blame Laguna for getting involved, but when he'd shown up the Galbadian government got in on it, and then the press. Now Zell was Chief Torch and Pitchfork Carrier at the Witch Hunt. Or, more accurately, the Sorceress' Knight Hunt.

Weirdly enough, it was Laguna Loire who was the Voice of Reason. “I feel better knowing Squall's with Seifer Almasy."

"Are you nuts? He tried to kill Squall. More than once!" Irvine was there, representing Galbadia Garden.

"Irvine! Are you a daddy yet?" Laguna captured the sniper in a quick bear hug. "How's my little fan girl?"

Zell rolled his eyes as Irvine flushed and stammered. He went back to reading the report the Galbadian Government had prepared on Seifer.

"Mr. President," Kiros said gently.

"Er, right. Thing is, Squall already beat him once. And he's a known enemy. Much easier situation."

Reluctantly, Irvine conceded Loire's point.

"And according to the report, Almasy's been working and going to school. Even saving lives. So that's not -"

Trent, head of Galbadian Security, interrupted. "With all due respect, president Loire, you yourself are a well-known Sorceress' Knight -"

"Elle is NOT a -"

"- and I think your and Esther's participation in this is best kept to a minimum," Trent continued.

Kiros stepped in front of Laguna. "I don't believe that is your decision to make, Mr. Trent."

"This is a matter of Galbadian security-" Trent started.

"Galbadian GARDEN security," Irvine put in.

"He. Has. My. SON!" Laguna spat.

Zell ignored the quibbling and tried to control his own anger. He was seething over the report he'd just read. How dare he? How fucking dare Seifer live happily ever after when Squall was in such pain? Zell shook his head, trying not to let his mind replay scenes of rescuing Squall, guarding him, covering for him... watching him disintegrate.

Zell slapped the report down on the table. The noise made the other men start and turn, slightly guiltily, to the furious young man.

"Let's go," Zell said.

 

 

Honest to Hyne, I never thought Squall would stay. The phone was there. I figured he'd call the Garden, Zell would run by with some clothes, and by the time I got home all I'd find was an echo. In fact, I was so sure, I went grocery shopping instead of buying take out. When I walked in and there Squall was, all flushed and overwrought and half in the bag, I almost fell over. He DID fall over, so that worked out.

He's still here.

Every day when I leave for work or school I kiss him goodbye and think it really IS goodbye. Every day when I come back, Squall is still here, like a little surprise party.

I don't know what he does all day, but the apartment's cleaner.

I know he's had Hyperion out, because that layer of dust on her case I've been feeling guilty about is gone. I don't know if Squall can wield her, though. She used to be too heavy for him.

Lately he's taken to cooking. When I complimented him, I got The Look.

"It's just chemistry," he said.

Explains why my cooking tastes like a science experiment.

Squall did grumble about having nothing to wear but my old gym clothes. I told him I liked him better naked, anyway, and I got The Look again.

I'd forgotten what a kick that was.

I took a hint and some of the School Fund and went shopping. With great self-control I did not buy the candy red butter leather suit. It wasn't in Squall's size. I knew what he'd want, but I hate him in black. It makes him look dead. I compromised with gray, but on a whim I threw in a pale strawberry colored shirt.

When I got home, Squall took the bags with no comment. Until...  
"Pink?!"

I grinned at him. "It's the same color as your nipples."

Hyne's hips, how I have missed that glare.

Squall was in the kitchen making gingerbread, which he knows is my favorite. "Do we have any more whipped cream?" he called.

I checked the can by the bed. "Nope. And remind me to do the sheets."

"As if."

I threw my towel in the grunge corner out of habit, although Squall thinks I do it deliberately to piss him off. I had just gotten my jeans zipped when there was a huge crash from the living room.

I skidded out saying something intelligent like "What the f-?!" I saw Squall pull a knife out of the block and go low around the kitchen island.

Where my front door had been was Zell Dincht, backed up by an unnecessary amount of Galbadian soldiers. "Not one spell or even sudden movement, Seifer," he said. "Or Irvine will shoot you dead."

I looked out the window and spotted the sparkle of targeting scope in the dust motes. I might be able to get the soldiers but I knew I couldn't take Zell. I sighed and raised my hands, slowly.

"Nice to see you, too, Chicken Wuss."

The last thing I saw as the soldiers drug me away was Squall standing in the kitchen doorway, butcher knife in hand, looking utterly bereft.

 

Trent ground out his cigarette with a vengeful twist. "You honestly expect me to believe you're some kind of hero?"

I grinned at him, even though it reopened the cut on my lip. I knew the effect was slightly dulled by the fact that my left eye was swollen shut, but I also knew I had a very irritating smirk.

"No," I said, keeping my voice pleasant. "What I want you to know is that I don't give a grat's ass what -"

Trent kicked me in the ribs. I folded up as well as I could with my hands cuffed behind me to the chair. It knocked the wind out of me so I could only mouth the word that came to my lips. Prick.

He smiled thinly at me.

My good sense, such as it is, tried to make me stay silent. After all, I knew why the chair was metal and bolted to the floor. I knew Galbadian interrogation techniques.

"You know," Irvine drawled, "That's Garden property you're messing with."

"That he's even still alive is an embarrassment to all of Galbadia, including your precious Garden."

"Let me clarify." Too fast to see, Irvine pulled his side arm, holding it against Trent's head. "Touch him again and I'll kill you."

Trent spluttered and I managed a wheezy laugh.

"Ignore him, Kinneas. He's still mad because I wouldn't promote him all those years ago." Did I ever listen to my good sense? "Maybe if he'd been a bit better at cocksu-"

Not taking his eyes off Trent, Irvine said, "Don't push it, Seifer. And don't put me in the middle. You don't know where my loyalties lie."

"Yeah I do," I said. "With Squall."

 

Laguna Loire gently took the pen Zell had been tapping for the last twenty or so minutes.

"Sorry," Zell said. He gestured to the 2 way mirror and beyond, to the room where Squall was efficiently reporting to Kiros and Selphie. "I feel like I'm spying on him."

"You are." Laguna sighed. "I'm sorry, that wasn't very diplomatic. ... I think you knew a lot of this already, anyway."

"Not as much as you'd think. Squall... never tells you what's wrong. He's only opening up now because he's trying to help Seifer."

"He loves him."

"Yeah," Zell said, leaning his head against the cool glass of the mirror. "What good will it do him?"

Squall continued the debriefing, face blank, voice expressionless as well. Laguna watched his son palm away tears almost absentmindedly, and felt his own heart ache.

"Maybe there's some good I can do," Laguna said.

 

I stretched my legs out and slouched in the chair, sitting with my tailbone just on the edge of the seat. I was trying to get at least slightly comfortable, not easy as I was still cuffed to the damned thing.

Trent had given up and left after Irvine made it clear that Seifers were out of season. The Cowboy followed shortly thereafter. I guess they had decided to try the 'Let 'em stew' method, also known as Death by Ennui. Ordinarily I would take the opportunity for a practice nap, but I was worried about Squall.

Speak of the devil.

Squall strode in, looking every inch the Commander. I did note that pale strawberry pink was indeed his color, and that the gray leather pants fit well enough to be illegal.

"They reached a decision," he said.

I waited, wordless for once.

Squall smiled, one of his rare, sweet, happy smiles, and held up the key to the handcuffs.

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"Apparently healing is either done medically, naturally, or magically. You've spent the last few years combining medical with magical. My father - Laguna Loire - is offering you a grant to study medicine and magic in Esther."

My heart stopped. "Med School? In Esther? That is THE school! The best! ... It costs a fortune."

Squall waved his hand, dismissing that. "That's what the grant's for. You're on your own grade wise, though. He won't pull strings for you to become a second rate Healer."

Like I would settle for second rate. I have my pride. But I'd take help getting IN. I'm proud, but I'm not stupid.

"So I'm free?"

"Conditionally. Sort of on Probation." Squall swung a leg over mine and sat down, straddling me.

"What if I don't agree to the conditions?"

He leaned close and stole a kiss. "What makes you think you're in control enough to have a choice?"

I kissed him back. "Are you my Probation Officer?"

"Yes." Squall rubbed on me a little as he reached around to unfasten the manacles.

"I'm a very bad boy. I'll need almost constant supervision." I rubbed my wrists and then his ass.

"I know. I've arranged for a sabbatical from the Garden. Quis and Zell do all the work now, anyway."

"Well, in that case..." I pulled Squall into my arms. "Let's just see who really is in control here," I said, and kissed him breathless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yes, this is the first fic in the Hero Saga. I guess I was stuck on the "trying to be normal" thing a lot longer than I realized...


End file.
